America 1881: Legend of the West

The light coming from the small lighting window on the ceiling of the basement gradually became dim and faint, until it finally disappeared completely and became pitch black.

The door to the basement opened once, and a guard he had never seen before came down, hung up a dim lantern, and threw a small piece of bread as hard as a rock to each of the three people in the cell.

"I wish you a good night's sleep." The guard dropped the last words, closed the basement door, and took away the ladder.

Chen Jianqiu was lying on the bench without moving, but his ears were always paying attention to the movements upstairs.

There were still a few people chatting at first, and the content ranged from two fools fighting each other on a nearby farm to a widow of unknown origin who recently appeared in the town. It was not until one person suggested that they go for a drink that the voices gradually died down. , there was only the sound of a person pacing back and forth.

After an unknown amount of time, the pacing stopped.

Chen Jianqiu sat up and gently knocked on the iron railing to signal the black guys to start working.

After Sean fumbled for a while, the lock was opened with a click. Then, he once again proved his professionalism. After a while, the locks of Chen Jianqiu and Feiniao's cells, as well as the bracelets and anklets of the three of them, all fell to the ground.

Sean stepped on Asuka's shoulders, raised his hands, and carefully pushed against the basement door.

It couldn't be opened, the door was locked from above.

Chen Jianqiu patted Sean's leg, motioned for him to come down first, and then whispered something in their ears.

The first floor at the moment

The guard who was left on duty was putting his feet up on the table, reading today's newspaper, and muttering about the charlatanism of his colleagues.

He has no share in drinking, gambling, and dirty work.

Suddenly, a "boom" sound came from the basement.

"What the hell are these bastards doing?" The guard was filled with anger. He took out his riding crop from the drawer and held the lantern, preparing to go down and leave some memories for these three bastards before they died.

He opened the basement door and lowered the ladder. He put down the lamp and poked his head down.

"Boys, let daddy teach you how to be a prisoner!"

Then, he saw a pair of white eyes and a crescent-like white arc of light.

The guard was pulled down with a light on. One person held down his legs, another locked his arms, and another directly covered his mouth and nose.

After struggling desperately for several minutes, the guard stopped moving.

Feiniao tested his breathing, felt his pulse, and signaled to Chen Jianqiu that the guard was dead. He dragged the body to the cage, laid it flat on its back and threw it on the bench.

Chen Jianqiu climbed up the ladder gently, then leaned against the wall and quietly walked to the corner of the stairs on the second floor to look up.

There was no movement, and the only person in the security station was the guard they had just killed.

You really have a big heart. Is it because the security in the west is so good? Or are the miners in this town usually too honest?

He looked back and saw the birds following him.

"Let's go." Asuka said.

"Where's Sean?" Chen Jianqiu suddenly noticed that the black man was missing and turned around to ask.

The two retreated from the second floor and found that the door to the Sheriff's Office was open. The black guy's ear was pressed against a safe behind the Sheriff's seat, and his other hand was turning the knob.

"What are you doing? Leave quickly?" Feiniao was a little anxious and wanted to pull Sean away.

"Shh, don't talk." Sean put his index finger on his lips and made a silencing gesture towards Asuka.

The two of them looked at Chen Jianqiu at the same time. Obviously, they had already acquiesced that Chen Jianqiu was the commander of this temporary three-person team.

Jianqiu thought for a moment and stopped Feiniao. He glanced at the clock in the hall, and then said to Asuka: "You go collect the gun and bullets. We will set off in five minutes."

Asuka nodded and walked away quickly.

"Are you sure you can handle this?" Chen Jianqiu walked to the table and asked in a low voice.

Sean didn't answer. He was intently listening to the spring in the safe's lock. After a while, there was only a "click" sound, and the first circle of numbers was correct.

Chen Jianqiu lamented the simplicity of safes in the 19th century. He turned around and walked to the desk in the Sheriff's Office, pulled out the drawer and began to look through the contents.

In the drawer on the far left, there was a bottle of wine and a pack of cigarettes. He picked up the cigarettes and put them into his vest pocket. He opened the lid of the wine and leaned his nose on it to smell it. He smelled a roasted smell. The aroma of nuts and cereals, and then I took a look at the label on the bottle.

"Kentucky bourbon?" He resisted the urge to raise his neck and take a sip, put the wine on the table, and opened the middle drawer.

The drawers were littered with newspaper clippings, ranging from the California Star to the Nevada Herald. But without exception, they all advocate that Chinese workers have usurped the job opportunities of local workers and should be expelled. Chen Jianqiu picked up one of them, which had a cartoon printed on it. A white American wearing a high hat was kicking the butt of a Chinese with braids.

When did hard work become a reason for persecution?

He threw the newspaper clippings back and finally opened the rightmost drawer.

There was a notebook lying quietly in the drawer. Chen Jianqiu picked it up. A photo slipped from the notebook. He picked it up and looked at it carefully. It was a group photo of several men at the door of the tavern.

He quickly found the coal mine boss and Sheriff Morris between the two rows of people. At this time, they were all wearing military uniforms and looked to be about 3 to 40 years old.

"It turns out they have known each other for a long time." Chen Jianqiu stuffed the photo back into the book and prepared to open it to see what was written inside. But when he heard a "bang", he turned around and found that Sean had already finished ransacking the safe and closed the door.

"What was found inside?"

Sean shrugged and handed Chen Jianqiu a few U.S. dollars, which seemed to be about ten dollars. Chen Jianqiu did not accept it, but stared at his face.

The black man was a little embarrassed by what he saw, and quickly handed him a deerskin bag: "Um, there is also this."

Chen Jianqiu made no move and still stared at the black man.

"Brother, there really is nothing else." The black man trembled.

"You should keep the money first." Chen Jianqiu took the deerskin bag with a calm voice. He reached into the bag and pulled out a paper-like thing made of an unknown material.

The black man murmured in his heart, how could this guy become so generous now after he had stolen ten dollars and chased him with his life?

Chen Jianqiu didn't look at him anymore, but unfolded the things in his hands. The material of the thing is very soft, a little yellowed, and even wrinkled. There was a hastily drawn picture on it, which seemed to be depicting some scene.

He was about to take a closer look when he heard the sound of birds flying next to him.

"It's human skin." Feiniao held two spears in his hands, a revolver hanging on his waist, and carried his bow and arrows and the ax behind his back.

"A rifle, a shotgun, and a revolver from the man we killed." Asuka put the gun and bullets on the table.

Chen Jianqiu looked at the gun on the table. This rifle is Springfield 1861, an explosive model in the Civil War. The shotgun is double-barreled. The model is Colt 1878. Strictly speaking, it is a hunting rifle. It has a center-folding breech loading. It has strong firepower and accuracy. Worrying.

If the martial arts and body reactions are the instinctive reactions of this body, then this body seems to have never shot a gun before, at least it has no feeling; he had some understanding of firearms before time travel, but he had never used one, let alone marksmanship.

Chen Jianqiu put the human skin back into his pocket and stuffed the small book he found in the drawer into it.

He threw his rifle to the Indians and his revolver to the blacks.

Sean's hand holding the gun felt like it was holding a soldering iron. He threw the gun back in a hurry and shook his head like a rattle: "Hey, boss, I don't know how to use a gun."

Chen Jianqiu didn't say anything, put the revolver back into his waist, and raised the double-barreled shotgun.

"set off!"